All That Was Left Behind
by Leonahari
Summary: There was a reason Envy joined Father and became a homunculus. Father stole something precious from him centuries ago. Now that the war is over, will he look to the future for guidance, or find comfort in the past? Envy/Winry
1. Prologue

FYI: This is an Envy-centered fanfic. Rating is undecided so check my profile for frequent updates. This may also become another Envy/Winry.

All That Was Left Behind

By Leonahari

Prologue

It was a fiery mid-afternoon in Xerxes. The sun blazed down on the desert city, stretched in every direction. Stone buildings stood brilliantly waving in the golden light. Along the sand-strewn cobblestone roads rose billows of orange dust. People passed and weaved between travelling trade venders, horse-bound riders in long light colored cloaks, Noble litters carried by eight or more slaves, merchants and the like. Not a breeze dragged the heat from the still air. Not a shadow had less than a crowd of weary workmen huddled within it.

William Thiessen quickly stepped out of the way for a horse-bound carriage carrying grain sacks pilled so high the driver sat at the top to see above his seat. He drew his cream-colored cloak around himself tightly despite the heat and wove his way through the madness of Xerxes main street. He absently fiddled with the corner of a leather-bound book he carried under his right arm. He avoided the merchant's eye as he passed and walked faster as if he were being pursued by him.

"Dr. Thiessen! Good afternoon!" waved a young man from across the street. William gave him a curt nod, and carried on. His grip on the book tightened as he turned down an alley between two stone buildings, an alkestry shop and a butchers market. An old woman sat on the crest of an old stone, her back against the wall and her hand out before her tired face. The lines of her skin were worn with worry and sadness. William passed her by wordlessly, stepping over her outstretched leg and bare, filthy foot.

An unbearable, sickly sweet stench met him as he turned behind the butchers building and continued straight into a shaded cobble path. A door creaked open to his left and he stopped suddenly as the contents of a urinal jar were thrown onto the path before him. William turned his nose up in disgust and waited for the door to close again before picking his way carefully past the feces.

At the end of the alley he drank in the dust-filled air and stepped into the sun again on a less crowded street. His eyes fell on a man sitting on his doorstep with his head in his hands, despair was writ into his face. William crossed the street and the man looked up with widening eyes. He stood and bowed a bit before beckoning him inside.

"Thank you so much for coming at such a time. I heard the rumors, but I never expected… well, be as it might, you are welcome here whenever you need –,"

"Where is the patient?" William said simply. He brushed aside the dust from his cloak and followed the man's finger with his eyes as he pointed the way into a dark bedroom. The house was not much a house as it was a narrow hole burrowed deeply in the building. Though the space was little, there was a certain amount of care given to keeping the walls and surfaces clean.

William followed a hallway into the dark bedroom and walked across it to draw the curtains. The window looked out into the back alley. Soft light spilled in enough to shape the sick man's face against the shadows as he lie sleeping on a small bed.

"He did not speak before, and then when the fever came upon him he seems to have forgotten how to be silent. Murmuring tales of woe and scaring the living daylights out of Glen and the children," the man replied as he stood cautiously in the doorway, "We're worried it might be a dark omen, a plague. There was some word about that spreading in the East side of Xerxes, but here…"

William set the leather-bound book on the nightstand table and pulled a wooden chair from the corner of the room toward the bed. "Let the rumors speak for themselves, I don't give much weight to them," he said, gently touching the man's face with the back of his hand. The man made a face as if he had gulped sour milk and William withdrew his hand.

"How long has he been like this?" Grey eyes looked up at the man in the doorway.

He shook his head, "Maybe two days. I've been out of town since last night. Glen was looking after him and wanted to leave the house to protect the children."

William frowned. "There's nothing I can do for him."

The man blinked at his sudden conclusion, "But you're a doctor!"

"It is beyond my control. His fever is severe. The only thing I can recommend is some fresh air and cold water," William sighed, "I'm sorry."

"But –,"

"I do, however, have one question," William added. The man gazed at him intently. "I would like to be the one to perform the autopsy when he dies - for medical purposes of course."

The man's eyes were wide and angry. His nose wrinkled in disgust and his brow furrowed in fury as he snarled, "You're a cold bastard! How dare you say such things in my house. Get out! Out!"

William frowned and grabbed the book off the nightstand. He passed the man on his way out the doorway and gave him a curt nod of farewell. His face was placid, grey eyes staring ahead passively, undaunted by the man's angry disgruntled shouts from behind him. He exited the house and ran a hand through his long black hair as if the door had not just been slammed against his back. With a bored expression he sighed and glanced up at the sky. The sun hid behind the building he had just left.

He made it to the end of the street and pressed on through as before. He followed the main street into the center of the city where a grand statue, a depiction of God beneath a four-pointed sun, stood towering above a platform on which stood columns of white stone. The senate building where the Emperor met with his Council was an enormous structure of stonework. The sun drew out the shadows from under the wide columns, streaking the marble floor with dark and golden segments until they reached the steps of the Emperor's thrown. The deep-seated monument was cast in complete shadow by the Westward setting of the evening sun.

William stood at the feet of the statue of God and stared out over the marble floor in which an alchemy circle had been etched into the polished surface. He kept his eyes still over the symbols at each point as he lifted and opened the leather-bound book in his hands. The pages spilled over to open onto where he had marked the specific one.

On the page was sketched a transmutation circle in black ink. He felt his hands start to tremble and his hair stand on end at the sight of it. It stood out so clearly against the white parchment. The contrast was so sharp it seemed to indent on his mind.

A moment of instinct made him look up to find someone standing before the Emperor's thrown. William felt his insides curl and twist at the sight of him. The man stood rigid in cream-colored robes as if he were meant to have taken on a different shape altogether, something larger, something inhuman. His blonde hair fell over his shoulders in a careless fashion. A short beard made his face look longer than it should have been, and his eyes held a similar color to that of his golden locks, though they almost seemed colder somehow.

William frowned as he recognize the man and made the greatest attempt not to turn on his heel and run. His mind was screaming at him, warning him of the danger this man in white presented. Still, William's grey eyes hinted at nothing that was going on behind them. His hands still trembled, but his expression was calm.

The man in white held out his hands as if he expected William to embrace him and said, "Your decision is a wise one. I had expected you to return."

William's face contorted into rage. The calmness of his featured completely dissolved in an instant and his grey eyes were alight with fire hotter than the Xerxes sun. "I know how to destroy you. I know what you are," he growled.

The man looked half amused and half bewildered as William held up the book in his hands and stared to read aloud from it. "Homunculus, cursed being of the Gate of Death! Creations of the unity of the sun and the moon; beings damned into eternal discontent –,"

The book suddenly burst into flames in his hands and William dropped it and jumped back in surprise. He looked up and saw that the man – no, homunculus – was grinning at him.

"I cannot be destroyed," he stated, smugly, "I am the Father. Your struggle against me is admirable, but futile. Your knowledge of alchemy is also a useless construct. You are nothing more than a mere insect to me."

William watched as the embers of the book glowed orange upon the marble floor. A rare breeze shifted through the columns and took hold of the weightless ashes and scattered them further apart until all that was left was a dark scorched mark in the ground. He felt a massive weight pull him down as his hope was brushed away as easily as the ashes. His knees hit the floor. His face glowed with anger and shame.

"What do you want with me?" his voice was coarse. It felt like a large hand had a strong hold on his throat.

"As much as I want little to do with you humans, I cannot accomplish what I'm set out to do alone," the man said indifferently.

"What if I don't want to help you?" William felt his anger boil over so that his tongue seemed to move on its own.

"It matters not what you want," the man replied, "You have a perfectly fit mind for my soul to inhibit. Your will is not what concerns me. You and the people of Xerxes serve only a means to an end for me. You will become my vessel, my pawn to control as I will. You will help me become a God."

"Blasphemy!" William snarled, "You are a homunculus! You are nothing but a creature of darkness! Just the thought of… even the idea of… It's impossible!"

The man's face remained impassive. "This talking is futile."

He raised a hand and William found he could not move. Blood pounded in his ears as he started to panic. He struggled against a firm, invisible force that enveloped him, holding him as still as stone. He dragged in a sharp breath as the man stepped forward with a crimson stone between his forefinger and thumb. As he approached, William's breathing quickened. Sweat beaded along his brow at his continual, futile struggle to move. He found he couldn't even yell out for help. His voice was hitched in his throat.

The man stopped just above him, holding the red stone before William's eyes. "I understand why you came here, human. Challenge me and I will crush you like the insect you are. Join me and help me accomplish my goal, and perhaps I will give you back what I stole from you."

Wet, hot tears formed in William's eyes. The vision of the man standing above him was momentarily obstructed by the moisture building up on his eyelids. As if by relief, the damn broke and the tears streamed down his face leaving warm trails behind. He still couldn't move, but as if a weight had been lifted from him he held hope in the man's small promise. Slowly, reluctantly, his heart accepted his fate.

"Now," the man said indifferently, "Will you be the beholder of my envy?"

William closed his eyes. What the man did next he knew not. Darkness consumed him and after a minute or two he was William Thiessen no longer.


	2. Slave 23

**Chapter One – Slave 23**

When the tides of fate break against the shores of life, the result can be catastrophic. That was what it had been like for Xerxes, a tsunami of destruction and death. The once-thriving desert city was left as silent as a ghost town. No animal moved or crawled along the streets or within the alley ways. There were no longer dust clouds billowing from the hustle and bustle of the lively city streets. A Nobles litter lay over on its side, the colorful silk banners around it moved gently with the soft breeze of evening. Horse-drawn carriages had halted as the horses once pulling them had fallen lifeless to the ground.

And people.

Dozens, perhaps thousands of people, lay scattered upon the cobblestone. A child lay dead next to its mother's body; one small hand clutching at her robs for comfort that never came.

The silence was absolute. A dead silence.

Envy remembered. He remembered staring out upon the city that once thrived. He remembered his mouth going dry at the sight of the bodies and the stench of them. He remembered the silence. Then, he remembered Father calmly speaking to him as if nothing had happened.

"They are a part of us now. They will give us the strength we need to accomplish our goal."

_Your goal_, Envy thought bitterly. He felt his heart tear open at the sight the dead. He wanted to die with them. He felt the desire to lie down on the marble floor of the senate house, along with the bodies of the senators and his King and wait for death to take him.

"You are stronger now, Envy," Father continued, "You should be grateful for the favor."

Envy could not look at the monster that had done this. Could not bring himself to admit he was an accomplice of this destruction. He had gone into this for other reasons of his own, but he would never become a monster, a murderer. He was not proud. He was angry, furious. Despair enveloped him as he closed his eyes and tried to forget the faces of the dead that haunted his memory. They were burned into his mind as a curse. He knew they would forever remind him.

"I…" his voice came unnaturally from his throat, coarse and unlike his own, "I did not sign up for this… My King, what have I done?"

"You seem to think you have a choice in the matter," Father replied as indifferently as always, "but you will learn that obeying me will keep you alive. You have a debt to pay... Now, bow to me."

Envy's face contorted with anger. Grey eyes that were now violet narrowed as he turned to glare at the monster before him. Fists balled tightly, he could feel the burn of the Ouroboros in his skin.

"You will disobey me?" Father's amused tone was slightly higher pitched than usual. Envy winced at the threat implied there.

"Even as a human I bow to no one!" Envy snarled, "I will _never_ bow to the likes of you!"

Father did not seem angry. His face remained passive. "You seem to forget you are no longer human. You are my creation, my child. You will call me 'Father' and you will obey me without question."

Envy gritted his teeth. The fiery words seemed to roll off his tongue without his control, but he meant every syllable, "_Fuck you_."

He froze, a bit out of fear of punishment, a bit out of excitement that rebellious statement had on him. His violet eyes scanned Father's face for a hint of anger but found none.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps walking slowly behind him. The sharp sound of heels in particular made him spin around in surprise to find a tall, slender woman dressed in a sleek, black dress coming towards him. She stopped and flipped her long black hair off her shoulders gracefully. A seductive smile curled her red lips up slightly as her violet eyes landed on him.

"He's sure a feisty one, Father," she said. Her voice was smooth and seductive just as her appearance. Envy was struck still by the sight of her.

"He is Envy," Father introduced unnecessarily, "I didn't expect him to obey immediately after his creation. Lust, you will be working with him much of the next few decades. Show him how to respect his Father."

Lust's eyes landed on Envy once more with a sly smile as she replied, "Of course, Father."

Envy shivered at the look she was giving him. He felt trapped within her violet orbs. He had to admit, she lived up to her name well. He forced himself to push the feelings aside and raised a hand to point shamelessly at her.

"You stay away from me," he snarled, threateningly. He was surprised how easily anger came to him. When he looked at her looking at Father, his blood boiled.

Lust smiled softly at him. She held him in her eyes again as she said, gently, "Poor, Envy. You're one of us now. We are your only family."

All Envy could do was stare at her. It was all he could do. Any movement he made he knew he would have rampaged at her. The fury was so powerful. It overwhelmed him to no end. The way she looked at him as if he was some sad animal… He didn't understand why he couldn't push away his anger, his _envy_.

That's when he realized. He was envy. Father had tainted his soul with it.

The once grey eyes met violet. Lust's lips curled up in a sneer. Envy still remembered what it was like to be human, to _feel_ human. He remembered what he used to do when he felt out of control, when he _had_ no control.

The fire in his eyes blew out like a gust had moved the embers away. The slow tide brushed his emotions and pushed them behind a wall build by grief and despair. His face, framed between curtains of unruly black hair, fell placid. The moon lit his pale, inhuman skin so that he seemed to glow silver. He looked down at his body, _really_ looked for the first time since he had turned immortal and saw himself for what he was.

The desert breeze had an unusual bite that evening. It chilled him. He saw the Ouroboros in crimson stained into his thigh. He was aware of Father and Lust watching him silently.

So silent.

Dead silent.

Bodies of the dead lying all over.

Peoples faces forever frozen in eternal fear and pain.

He would never forget it. Never.

* * *

Violet eyes stared forward, empty and forlorn, at the destruction ahead; cracked cement, bits of the ground had been kicked up in the fight. In some spots rock and debris lay in tall, sharp piles. In other parts, the ground seemed to have been smashed away by some powerful force. Small craters had been left in their wake. The remnants of transmuted weapons and barriers lay broken and eroding. Within this chambered place, surrounded by tubes, upon tubes of Father's forgotten dream, Envy sat against the cold stone. Weariness had enveloped his body as he leaned against a tilted pillar, half crumbling.

Here he had watched Father die. Be defeated by those he called insects by comparison. Mere humans stood around one massive crater, staring in awe at where Father's immortal body had once been before the soft breeze had scattered him like dust. His death was just like any homunculus. Once the stone was used up the shell disintegrated. Ashes to ashes…

Only Envy had remained. He had witnessed his Father die at the hands of humans.

Edward Elric turned to gaze down at Envy. Envy was sure he was thinking the same thing as he was. "Why am I still here?" The gurgled words came out in a gasp from his throat. Blood streamed between his cracked lips and down his chin. It was warm, it felt almost human. He was comforted by the thought that he could die like one.

The humans were watching him now; Edward Elric and his unusual brother, Izumi Curtis, Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, the rice girl from Xing and her cat… Envy could almost name them all. He could almost admire the way they had banded together against their odds to protect the little life they had left.

A sound over to his right made Envy remember Van Hohenhiem. He let his head roll over onto his shoulder so that he was staring right at the man whose image was so close to Father it was unnerving. Anger burned in Envy's violet eyes at the sight of him.

"He never… kept his promise…" the words were thick and heavy. More blood dripped off his chin. He felt his throat tighten. A heat surfaced in his eyes.

Four hundred years, and Envy now knew he had lost what he had longed to protect. Four hundred years…

Hohenhiem knew too. He knew more than he let himself believe. Violet met gold for a brief moment and they both knew the emptiness inside them. For a moment, Envy thought he saw pity flash behind his eyes.

* * *

404 years earlier…

He threw stones, two by two, his eyes murkier than the muddy water. His clothes were cleaner than this blood. A dark leather property tag hung around his neck and faced outward on his flat chest. His robes fell in pools around his feet, the trim of the bottom slowly being soaked by the water he played with. He sat on the steps of a grand villa. Its tall marble walls shut out the light from that side of the street. On it, ornate carvings were crafted into the stone.

William Theissen ran his hand along the wall of it to feel the slight grooves. They were cold to the touch, pleasing to his fingertips. The slave's hummed tune brought his eyes up to the doorway. He passed the man wordlessly and entered.

The villa on the inside was just as richly decorated as the marble walls had suggested. The main entrance opened up to the sky letting the warm sunlight pool in onto a small court of a well groomed garden in the shape of a long rectangle. Bright colors and designs were painted along the walls and pillars, mostly in red and gold but some in dark blue and white as well.

His sandals made sharp clipping sounds against the tiled floor and he was immediately met by another slave. He was dressed more finely than the other, cream-colored robes hung from his shoulders as well as a dark colored toga, folded carefully over his right shoulder. He also wore a property tag. He had long golden hair which he took care to tie back and eyes of the same color, though Will had not seen much of them as the man was currently staring at the floor.

"Where is your master?" Will asked him.

The man replied without standing straight, "In the library, sir."

"Stand up, man," Will chuckled, "I don't need to be bowed to like some over-decorated wretch. How many times have I reminded you?"

The slave stood up and his golden eyes softened as he let go a small smile, "One time too many, sir."

They started to walk slowly toward the library at the back of the property. Will smelled the peace tree as they passed and resisted the urge to pluck a ripened one off the branch. He would have to remember to ask his old friend first. Instead, he addressed his assistant slave.

"How goes your studies, 23? I heard you were pursuing the art of alchemy," Will commented. They brushed passed the center garden. The main hall opened up to another large, well decorated room. This one was cooler than the other, not open to the sky like the first. Potted plants were spaced out along the walls and the same vibrant colors edged around arched openings. The cool breezes drifted through from the stable yard and surrounding gardens. A few doorways led off from this room, but they continued straight forward to the one at the far end.

"It is not so difficult than I thought, sir," slave number 23 replied, "Though, I do fine the more advanced theories harder to understand than others. I'm sure an esteemed alchemist like yourself would have no trouble…"

Will grimaced. He didn't take comments as well as some would. "It takes time," he assured him, "And you are still yet young. You have plenty of time. I shall say, by the time you are my age you will have learnt over and above what I know already."

A slight blush graced the slaves cheeks, but he was not ashamed of it. He met Will's gaze straight on and gave a small, polite bow of the head. "I do not wish to outsmart you, sir."

"Ah, why not?" Will laughed, "One day, you and I will sit down as equals and we'll have ourselves a game of chess. I desire to have a challenge. Playing with plebs is not fun anymore."

A wide smile broke out around the slaves face. His golden eyes lit up with hope of one day becoming a free man. He bowed a few times as they walked, unable to contain himself, saying, "You are too generous, sir. I will learn as much as I can until that day."

They reached a wide doorway. The doors stood open on a circular room lined with bookshelves. A tall arched opening led out onto a patio nestled amongst the lush greenery of another garden. A small, plain table will only two chairs stood under the shade of the patio and a man sat on one of them with his face in a large book.

Will stopped in the doorway and turned to slave number 23. "How old are you, boy?"

"Thirty, sir," 23 replied.

Will blinked in surprise. "Thirty?"

"Yes, sir. Almost Thirty-one."

Will studied the slaves face from the roots of his golden hair to his strong chin. His head tilted as it sometimes did when he was musing over something. After a moment, he said, "You don't look an air of twenty-five. I thought you were much younger… nineteen maybe."

Slave 23 smiled softly and gave him a small bow again. Will shrugged and laughed, "I thought you young enough to be my son, but you might as well be my brother instead."

The slaves smile widened at his joke. It would seem they understood each other on levels deeper than a slave and a noble.

"Whose laughter is that I hear?" came a voice from the patio. Will turned to his old friend and walked into the library, away from slave 23, with his arms open wide and welcoming.

"Cassius! Old man! You're slave is holding his face better than you are," Will grinned. Cassius chuckled and stood to slap him on the back. He motioned for Will to sit with him and he did.

"How are the children?" Cassius asked as another slave brought them fresh, cold honey water.

"Healthy as always," Will replied, taking a quick sip, he continued, "Raiden is running the house as well as her mother."

"And little Gaius?"

"Quiet and growing fast," Will replied, "Only two years old and he already speaks better than some of our senators."

The two men laughed. A slave placed a silver tray of fruit on the table before them and silently disappeared. Silence settled comfortably on them as they picked grapes off of the tray and drank water under the shade. Slave 23 stood out bluntly in Will's peripheral vision. Since he became Cassius' assistant he was always present at their meetings, but it bothered him little.

"So, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Cassius said.

Will swallowed some more water and thought carefully about his next words. His continued silence seemed to put Cassius in stress as he leaned back in his chair and avoided his eyes to examine a signet ring on his finger. Will remembered when Cassius' father had given it to him before he had died. In his family, they told the tale of it being handed down from the gods of fortune to Cassius' great ancestors.

"I don't want to put pressure on you to break your vow of confidentiality with the senators," Will started. Cassius scowled and shook his head as if he thought Will was being over formal with him. Will continued, "But you are present for every meeting. I just need to know if something is… amiss."

"Amiss?" Cassius repeated. He chuckled, but his dark eyes told a different emotion. "They are same as always; old men bleating about gold and lack of it."

After a moment of thought, Cassius added, "Care to tell what has your mind spun up in a web?"

Will sighed. Grey eyes met dark ones in a moment's hesitation. The shade had almost gotten too chilly for comfort and the grapes too sour to enjoy. Slave 23 shifted awkwardly under the silence.

"I cannot say," Will replied almost in a low mumble, "For I still am not sure of where my musings lead to."

Cassius' lip turned up in a half grin. He leaned forward slightly and said, "As a friend to a friend I give you some advice: in times such as these, it is best to keep your suspicions to yourself. Sometimes a mind as sharp as yours has the habit of turning in on you."

Grey eyes narrowed. "Are you saying I cannot trust you?"

Cassius chuckled but it lacked his usual warmth. "You can trust me with anything, dear friend. I am merely giving you some advice. In fact, I am glad you came to me and not someone else, who knows who you can trust in times like these."

"And what times are these…exactly?" Will asked slyly. He sipped at the honey water, but his eyes never left Cassius' face.

"Hard as always," Cassius commented, "Must you twist my words so? Advice like what I have given you is good no matter what time it is."

Will sighed, though he did not let himself be fooled. "Indeed."

Cassius folded his arms over the table top and gave him a studious look, saying, "Honestly, Will. We have known each other all our lives… I don't have to be cunning to know you are troubled, and I know you well enough that you know exactly what it is."

A smile graced Will's lips and he put his goblet of honey water down on the table. A soft breeze filtered in through the trees bringing with it the scents of jasmine and lavender. Though it soothed him, it still lacked its usual warmth.

"My wife," Will said, and paused reluctantly, "bears the child of another man."

Cassius choked briefly on the honey water and put his goblet down also. His dark eyes widened in shock at this news. His movements became jerky as he braced the table, saying, "I grieve with you. What a dishonor to bring upon her family. How are you handling it?"

"I am at a loss of what to do with her," Will replied, coldly, "She admitted it to me out of guilt alone. Perhaps, I should see the courage in her confession and be merciful. I do not desire to beat her, especially since she carries an unborn child. I could kill them both."

"Justice and honor demands she die by your hand," Cassius said, sternly, "I'm sorry, Will, but it is the only way to redeem yourself and the children. Think of Raiden. She cannot be wed to a noble if he knows of her mother's misdeeds. No decent man would want her."

Will let out a shaky breath. When he spoke his words trembled, "I know what honor demands. I had hoped there would be some other way. I love her dearly."

"She spit in your face and you kneel to her?" Cassius raised a judging brow. He slowly shook his head, "You are not weak or stupid. Do it quick and you won't have to think about it much."

Will abruptly stood from his seat and nodded to Cassius. "I will speak with you some other time. For now, I must go."

Cassius stood and shook his hand. His dark eyes were hard and soft at the same time. "Fortune be with you, old friend. Things will look up soon enough."

Will removed his hand from his friends embrace and turned to leave the library. Slave 23 stood in the doorway staring at the tile floor as if he had not overheard their conversation. Then, as if a thought had just struck him, Will turned back to Cassius from the doorway and asked, "May I pick some peaches on my way out? They'd make a nice gift for the children."

Cassius smiled, "Of course. Take as much as you want."

Slave 23 and Will walked in silence through the center room and into the main hall where the sunlight lit the garden. It didn't seem as bright as it had been before. They stopped at the peach tree and Will plucked a peach from the branch. He put it to his nose to smell its freshness. Slave 23 watched him with a sad look in his eyes.

"Good peaches these," Will commented. Slave 23 straightened when he was suddenly addressed and replied, "I haven't tried them."

"Well, that won't do," Will said, he passed one to him, "Here."

Slave 23 let a smile grace his features, but his eyes still looked saddened. Will studied him as he picked another from a branch. Slave 23 stared down at the fruit in his hand as if something else preoccupied his mind.

"You may speak plainly," Will allowed his curiosity to take over.

Slave 23 nodded slowly and as if his tongue was rooted to the roof of his mouth, he didn't speak for a few seconds. Reluctantly, he said, "The news of your wife… it was a distraction, wasn't it?"

Will smirked, "The news of my wife is true, but your observance may cost you dearly if you're overheard. Best take your master's own advice and speak only to those you truly trust."

Slave 23 dropped his gaze to the floor again. Will's grey eyes softened, as he said, "Enjoy your peach and keep up with your studies, alchemist. We will see each other in days to come."

With that, Will left him to stare after him. He left the villa with no intent on returning ever again.

* * *

"Van Hohenheim…" The name escaped Envy's lips. It felt unnatural to call him that. The golden eyes studied him as they had done so many times before, but this time they were soft with memory.

It shocked everyone when Hohenheim took a few steps forward and kneeled next to the homunculus. Violet eyes stared weakly up at him. A small smile warmed up Hohenheim's face. In the silence that fell on them, they seemed to share memories.

"We never did get to play that game of chess like you promised," Hohenheim said quietly.

Envy could not manage a smile. The despair of what time had done to the both of them was overwhelming. How much had changed since then… they had both become two completely different people.

"I had…" Envy's words were hard to make out through the blood in his throat, "almost forgotten…"

Hohenheim sighed, "Even when I saw you for the first time as a homunculus and I saw what Father had changed you into, I could still sense William was still there. You kept his soul strong and eternal."

"Cassius…" Envy mumbled, "That bastard…"

I was all Hohenheim could do to bow slightly like he used to, just tipping his head down a bit. Quietly, he sighed, "I know… I'm sorry I couldn't say anything to you before."

* * *

**Leonahari: By now you've probably figured out that this story is going to be flashback based. I'm trying this out as an experiment. I hope you like it. **


	3. Soul Memories

**Chapter 3: Soul Memories**

Driven by the rut made by repetition, William Thiessen retraced his steps back from Xerxes General Hospital to a stunted stone villa on the Eastern side of the city. He took the same route with the same careful steps. He needn't worry about a wrong turn or the fact that he couldn't see the direction of sun between the tall city buildings that stood high above his head. Before he knew it he stood outside the front door with a key in his hand as he fumbled with the lock. He stepped inside the small foyer and slipped his shoes off.

The simple décor did not radiate the same vibrancy as Cassius' villa had and it was smaller, just comfortable. As luck would have it, doctors, though highly respected, were not highly paid. That seemed not to worry Will as he sniffed thoughtfully at the clean air and strolled into the main room. A few children toys sat on the floor next to a lounge chair. Sun streamed in through the open windows. In the distance he could hear the sounds of the city, but they seemed far off. No other sounds penetrated the silence around him. He frowned.

His study remained just as messy as when he'd left it early that morning. Alkahestry books and pieces of parchment with his own scrawled handwriting layered the mahogany desk resembling something that might have been called organized chaos. Will's eyes landed on the large leather-bound text in the center of it all. His lip twitched as slight panic rose up in him. He had left the book open when he'd left. How foolish of him. Anyone could have come across it…

He closed it carefully now and looked out the window at the courtyard centered within the villa. The silence was still complete.

Then, "Daddy?"

* * *

Envy's eyes shot open. The hospital bed on which he lay was half doused in sunlight coming in from the window on the side of the room. A sigh escaped him. He was back in Central, back in the present day.

Wiping sweat from his forehead, he rolled over and noticed he was being watched by big blue eyes. Blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like a golden waterfall. Blue met violet for a split second before they both looked away. He groped around in his mind for a name to fit to the girl, but none came. He knew her. He _knew_ he knew her. Somehow, he also knew he wasn't supposed to be lying in a hospital bed being watched by a former enemy. Something was wrong about it. Maybe he hadn't really woken up at all.

He sat up and pain wracked his body like he had never felt before. A blur of images and senses assaulted his mind at that moment. The taste of blood was prominent on his tongue; Father in all his glory being destroyed by a swarm of humans, one of which Envy knew very well; A flash of fire accompanied by a searing pain in his side.

Envy looked down at his body and noticed a patchwork of pale-colored scarring along the left side of his abdomen. But that was wrong. Why had he healed like that? It was ugly. He tried to shift his state into a flawless from, but all he had managed to do was give himself a headache. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Van said it would be difficult for you to use your powers at first," came a small voice from next to him. It shook him out of his reverie. He turned to face her. He had completely forgotten about her.

"Van?" at least his voice hadn't suffered any change. It still lingered between sexes, but it was something he had grown accustomed to. Years of being a shapeshifter had caused him to forget what he used to look like, but sound always triggered memories, even those from centuries past.

"Ed and Al's father, Van Hohenheim," the girl said. She looked at him with slight pity in her eyes, which made Envy's blood boil. His memory might have suffered a bit of drawback, but it definitely didn't give him a reason to pout about it. He was still remembering things from centuries ago like they had been yesterday. He frowned in thought. Then, why was he having difficulty remembering recent events? Names and faces were his specialty and he still hadn't come up with a name for the girl who sat in front of him.

He glanced at her again and studied her face. Blonde hair, blue eyes – typical, he thought. She had rounded features, a small nose and silver band earrings road up each of her ears. He counted three piercings on each. Odd, for a woman to have a piercing at all… He mentally slapped himself. Why was his conscious mind getting confused with facts from the past?

"You should be lying down," she said. She looked as if she wanted to help him, but didn't want to touch him. That revelation stung deeply. Envy scowled.

"I'm more comfortable sitting," he replied more stubbornly than normal. He wondered why she was there at all if all she was going to do was stare at him with pity looks and offer lame advice.

Suddenly, she stood, "I've dealt with more stubborn patients. Do you want me to force you?"

Envy blinked at her in surprise. Then, out of the depths of his mind, a name finally formed itself. "Winry Rockbell, automail mechanic…"

Her look softened. "We've met before," she said, a little amused, "But you were pea-sized and green."

If it were possible, Envy felt a little heat rise up in his cheeks. So, she'd seen him as _that_, had she? How embarrassing. He wasn't surprised to find anger rise with the heat. "I wasn't myself then."

"I can see that," Winry said. A small smile played on her lips, "Now, please lie down."

Before Envy could respond the door opened and a young man about Winry's age appeared. Envy recognized him immediately, and found it rather amusing. Edward Elric held a tray of food and let the door close behind him with a thud. He stopped when he saw Envy and almost dropped the tray.

"Winry, get away from him!" he said sharply.

"But Ed –,"

"Go and get Hohenheim, Winry," he added. He put the tray of food on the night table as Winry reluctantly left the room. Envy noticed her cast a glare at the back of Ed's head before she closed the door. He put a hand over his eyes to block out the cold white light of the infirmary. He had started to get a headache. Odd, he normally wasn't susceptible to small strokes of pain. It brought him back to when he used to deal with more than just simple headaches. When he was human.

"Why…" Speech seemed, for the moment, extremely difficult, "Why am I alive? How am I…?"

"Father's been defeated and Amestris is safe. I don't know how you survived after getting severed from Father, but so did Pride," Ed explained.

"Pride?" A mental image of darkest within darkness consumed Envy's mind. Pride, the first homunculus and Father's favored child, had survived the war between monster and human. God and human, Envy remembered Father correcting him far too many times to count. Though, no matter how many times he did, Envy couldn't help but think of his own reflection and doubt him. To be homunculus was not becoming of a god; far from it in his opinion.

"Did you hear me?" Edward's voice sharply cut in, "You've lost the war. Don't try anything funny."

"So, Pride survived did he?" Envy asked with half a mind to stir the pot a bit, "Are you sure it's safe to keep him alive. He's the most dangerous of all of us, you know. I wouldn't keep him out of sight for a second."

"You're both going to be watched closely," Ed replied, and Envy realized he wouldn't take the bait that easily. He knew Envy too well. His tricks were becoming old news. "You're lucky Mustang and Grumman are easy-going. Mustangs giving you another chance –,"

"He's saving face, is he?" Envy scowled, "Coward. He should have just finished it, but you humans are all too sentimental."

"Perhaps, but we've overcome you homunculi," Ed frowned, "And if either you or Pride decided to fight us, we'll wipe you out just like we did to Father and the others. You're not all-powerful or immortal. We know how to defeat you. Don't try anything stupid."

"So, you expect me to live alongside you humans even after everything Father's done? How humiliating…" Envy twisted the bed sheets in his fists angrily. It had been a long time since he had felt what he felt now; angry, yet grateful, and too proud to admit it.

"I know everything, Envy…" Ed's voice penetrated into Envy's mind like nothing had ever done before, "Hohenheim told Al and I everything about Xerces, about you – William –,"

"Don't say _his_ name!" Envy snarled. He almost leaped from the bed. He wanted so much to strangle the air out of the boy sitting in front of him. How dare Hohenheim! It was none of their business. He had buried that life a long time ago, and forgotten it. It was for the best, and now that insolent little bastard had decided to resurrect it.

"You were human once," Ed persisted in disbelief, undaunted by Envy's maddened expression, "You knew my father. You were… a doctor."

Envy pulled at his own hair and hid his face in his hands, trying to drown out Ed's voice. His voice had become lost in his throat. He wanted to scream at the little bastard. He wanted to tear his tongue from his head.

"You… had a family."

Silence closed around him now. He had pulled his hair so hard his scalp had gone numb with pain. His eyes, bloodshot, stared widely at the sheets draped over his legs. If he had a heart for his undying body, it would have stopped.

He _had_ a family. Father and Lust had been as good as any, but he knew the runt wasn't talking about them.

He had – William had – had a family. Could he even remember what they looked like anymore? What had been the color of his daughter's eyes? Or the sound of his wife's voice when she sung a lullaby to his infant son? Could he remember any of it anymore?

Despicable.

* * *

Xerxes is most beautiful on the edge of summer. Fruits ripened, harvest came and the sky would turn deep red at sun set. Beautiful.

Natural.

The summer before the world ended, William sat in his work shop eyeing up a few forgotten projects. His work for the hospital had absorbed most of his spare time, but sitting there, puffing absently at a pipe, he suddenly felt full of inspiration. Alkahestry was his job, and he was good at it, but mechanics was his fascination.

Metal was difficult to come by in Xerces. He had saved a small fortune for the tools he could pay for and built what he could out of what he found. When he was younger he fashioned toy animals or objects out of wood and stone for his daughter, but his interest had moved to a more malleable resource. It was both strong and flexible, and engineers had started using it for the rungs of carriage wheels, structure support of buildings, and even utensils in place of wood. It was expensive, but it was the best.

His eyes fell on an old sword leaning against the wall and he wondered. What new horrors would people dream up now? It seemed that every new technology always ended up being driven towards a new, more efficient way to kill.

He sighed. That would make his job that much more difficult.

His reflection stared back at him from a polished piece of silver he held between his fingers. Black hair, pulled back out of his face, fell past his shoulders. Grey eyes followed the shallow lines around the corners of his mouth. His complexion and coloring differed from the typical Xerces inhabitant. His father had come from Xing in his youth with prospects of traveling the world and instead ended up settling down with a woman in Xerces. His father had strong genes, and the black hair had won out, but the grey eyes. He smiled a bit. They were from his mother's side.

He supposed that's how he had managed to hook a woman like Larissa. She had a taste for the exotic, and unlike him, she was outgoing and sociable. She was also much younger than he. William sometimes felt that he had harnessed her too soon. He had wanted children, and she had obliged.

They left the raising of the children to the keeper of the keys, Slave Number 14. Larissa had insisted they buy a few slaves to help with the housework, and William provided like a dutiful husband. He felt he needed to give Larissa as much free time as she needed. Since, he felt guilty for taking it away from her too soon.

"The horse broke, dad."

William turned his attention to his daughter. She had inherited his coloring and her mother's soft features. She held the wooden horse figure up to him. One of the legs had snapped. He smiled.

"That's an easy fix," he said, taking it from her.

"Are you going to work tomorrow?" she asked. Big eyes stared up at him expectantly.

"Bright and early. You know that. Why do you ask?"

"I don't want to be left with Fourteen anymore. She makes me sit in the playroom and I'm not allowed to go out of the house," his daughter complained.

"Is your mother going out tomorrow again?" he said. He found a nice piece of chalk and started drawing a transmutation circle on the surface of the desk with it.

"She said she's going to see a friend."

He placed the horse at the center of the circle and there was a flash of blue light. After it had finished, he gave it back to her, fixed like new. "Good as new," he said.

"Thanks, dad."

* * *

His eyes opened slowly and blinked to clear his vision. A haze had settled on his mind, making him feel as though he were still in a dream. Hohenheim sat next to the bed, looking at him with an expression of concern. Someone shifted in the background and Envy noticed Ed stood, leaning against the wall next to the door. His arms were crossed and his eyes were angry. Being the most observant homunculus, Envy noticed with disbelief that his right arm was of flesh and not automail.

So… it's really over. The war is over.

"Those flashbacks are normal and will continue to happen for any length of time. Eventually they will become few and far between and stop completely," Hohenheim said.

"What are they? Dreams?" Envy muttered.

"I think you know what they are, William," Hohenheim replied, calmly, despite Envy's obvious jerk at the name, "They're memories; Soul memories to be more specific. Your philosopher stone has been damaged beyond repair and only a few souls remain attached to you including your original one."

"You told them about me?" Envy hissed, glancing over at Edward with a look of fury.

"After your little display at headquarters after Father had been defeated I had to," Hohenheim bowed his head a little, "Forgive me, but it was the only reason Roy Mustang kept you alive."

Envy frowned and gingerly sat up. "Kept me alive out of pity? Stupid human. He should have finished it when he had the chance. Just goes to show you humans are fool-hearted. Trusting enemies like friends, running around flapping your mouths about friendship and love and every other stupid attachment you can come up with."

"I'll have you know, Mustang has also decided to place Scar on to help with Ishballan relations, and Pride is being raised once more by Mrs. Bradely. He is giving you all a second chance to redeem yourselves," Hohenheim explained. With a small smile he added, "I attested to your account. I believe you have it in you to work with humans, especially after you admitted to wanting to be incorporated within that network of friends you envy so much. I also know that William's soul is strong and kind."

"I am not William!" snapped Envy, "And you can tell these memory flashbacks to fuck off! There's no way I'm going to lower myself to work with the likes of you humans."

"You worked with us when we were trapped in Gluttony's stomach," Ed suddenly piped up, "You did it because it was a life or death situation, but think of this in the same way. Mustang's giving you one chance to work with us again. If you try to turn on us, we'll just have to take you out."

Envy looked between the son and the father. Neither looked particularly happy about giving Envy another chance. In fact, they looked like he was about to go on a killing rampage at any given moment. It pleased him to see that they hadn't completely given into the idea of him as a soft-hearted, used-to-be human. He was still very much a homunculus. He still very much hated humans.

But Fullmetal was right for once. It didn't look like he had much of a choice, and he hated that even more.

"What exactly am I being kept alive for? What job are you going to force me into?"

Hohenheim's lip turned up a bit. "You're a very cunning strategist and you know a lot about Alkahestry. The Fuhrer wants you to work for him. Also, as a homunculus you complete the variability of races within the government."

Envy blinked. "The Fuhrer?" It couldn't be…

"Roy Mustang has been appointed Fuhrer," Hohenheim replied.

"What that flame lunatic?" Envy blanched. He hadn't known the Flame Alchemist personally, but his relationship with him had been a rich one. It was difficult to erase that look of dark hatred from his mind, and the scorching heat of the alchemic flames.

"Tck, if only we knew you knew about Alkahestry from the very being…" Fullmetal mumbled. He walked forward and dropped a folder on Envy's lap. "Welcome to the human side. You are now a dog of the state. Here's your first assignment."

Envy scowled at the pint-sized alchemist and opened the folder. His eyes fell on some paperwork, outlining his job description and his jaw dropped. "_Bodyguard_?"

"For me," Ed looked about as happy as Envy did about it.

"Fuck no. Why the hell do you need a bodyguard? Doesn't that stab at your pride, pipsqueak?"

Fullmetal's hand jerked into a fist. "I'm not happy about it either, but I can't do alchemy anymore and Al has decided to take a year off for courtesy calls. Everyone else they offered it to declined and you were the last they could give it to, assuming you decided to not be an ass."

"You can't do alchemy, eh? That sucks," Envy snickered, "How can you call yourself a state alchemist if you can't even perform?"

"I'm doing research now," Edward replied, ignoring the implied insult, "I plan to go to Xing and visit Ling and May first and get some knowledge on Alkahestry. That's why I need you with me."

"I don't remember half of it," Envy said. He scanned through the folder again and noticed he had been bumped to Major. He found that interesting. When Wrath had been in charge he had been eternally stuck down at the Lieutenant rank. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. He could push a few people around and pester Fullmetal a bit.

That's when it dawned on him. Fully dawned. He was free. Father was dead. He was free to do whatever he liked, assuming he didn't tread on Mustang's toes.

He felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a weight that had been there since what felt like the beginning of time. This was it. This is what he'd worked so hard to accomplish.

"Sounds good," he suddenly said. Fullmetal and Hohenheim gaped at him. He supposed they had expected him to argue a little more, but if he had to be honest with himself, he was tired of fighting. For once he just wanted to go with the flow of things and see where he landed.

"Uh… alright then," Edward glanced over at Hohenheim, "We'll leave as soon as you're able."

Envy turned his attention to Hohenheim and said, "Will you tell me more about these soul memories? Are they real?"

"They are as real as any memory, and like a memory they can be altered by your perception of things," Hohenheim replied, "So don't put ultimate trust in them. They can be changed to reflect your bias. Things as simple and basic as color can be different from reality."

"In the last one I saw my reflection… It's hard to remember. I don't remember what I looked like, but the dream was so vivid," Envy said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was admitting that he was, at least, William in theory, something he had tried to avoid.

"If I recall, you had black hair and grey eyes," Hohenheim said suddenly, catching Envy off guard. He stared at him in disbelief.

"So, it's the same. Does that mean it's real? That it wasn't just my mind patching things together?"

Hohenheim nodded. "It's possible."

"Hohenheim," Envy started a little awkwardly, "Did you ever meet my children?"

Fullmetal shifted awkwardly and Hohenheim smiled kindly at him. "Just the once."

"Could you… refresh my memory?" Envy asked, "Could you… tell me about them?"


End file.
